


Sixteen Candles

by thecheekydragon



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Birthday Wishes, M/M, Modern AU, POV Alternating, fest fic, reel-merlin, sixteen candles: the movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-10
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-25 00:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/633178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecheekydragon/pseuds/thecheekydragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin could forgive his family for forgetting his sixteenth birthday so long as he could get his one true wish - that the boy of his fantasies, Arthur Pendragon, fall deeply and madly in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sixteen Candles

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ on September 2, 2012
> 
> Written for movie prompt at [reel-merlin](http://reel-merlin.livejournal.com)
> 
> The fic follows the 1984 John Hughes film of the same name, done Merlin-style with a twist!

Today was Merlin’s sixteenth birthday.

Not that it was a big deal or anything. Turning sixteen was really only a big deal for girls. And Merlin was _not_ a girl, even if Gwen liked to tease Merlin incessantly that he was one of them – a _girl_ that was.

He assessed his reflection in the full-length mirror again and sighed. 

“I look exactly the same,” Merlin lamented into his cell phone.

Gwen giggled on the other end. “Well, what did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I just thought I’d look _different_. I mean, I wasn’t expecting to wake up transformed or anything – you know, woken up with a set of rock hard abs and huge biceps, grown a beard maybe - but I was expecting _something_.” He gave another sigh. “I’m still the skinny, pasty, fifteen-year-old-looking boy I was yesterday.” 

“Age is a state of mind, Merlin.”

“Yeah, well I don’t _feel_ any different either,” he continued to grouse. Gwen made appropriate sympathy noises on her end, which at least made Merlin feel better. “Gotta go,” he told her, sweeping the books from his desk into his messenger bag. “My mom’s probably downstairs with waffles, waiting to wish me a happy birthday. See you at school.”

Merlin ended the call. He coated his fingers with some gel and raked it through his hair, mussing up the ends a bit. Then he looped a blue-grey scarf around his neck to pair with the black screen-printed t-shirt and jeans he was wearing. 

He was sixteen today, he tried to think positively, and gave himself one last appraising look before heading downstairs. Merlin may not look or feel any different, but he still had an awesome sense of style.

**

It turned out there were no waffles.

His mother pecked him on the cheek as she handed Merlin the brown paper sack that contained his lunch. 

“Don’t forget, Morgana and I are having dinner with the Knights tonight,” she said, catching his little brother Mordy by the backpack as he whizzed by and shoving a lunch bag into it. “And remember your godfathers are coming this afternoon.”

Merlin nodded, tucking the lunch into his messenger bag. Morgana, his sister, was getting married tomorrow – that fact had not escaped Merlin’s memory; the event had been seared into his brain over the past fourteen months. Who knew it took that long to plan a wedding? He looked at his mother expectantly.

“And I’m afraid lunch is a plain tuna sandwich,” is what she told him. “I didn’t have time to make the special tuna salad you like.”

That was it? thought Merlin. No happy birthday, no well wishes, no waffles, no nothing?

“So...that’s it?” he asked, probing, figuring his mom would take the hint.

Hunith Emrys smiled and Merlin immediately felt warmed by it – his mother had remembered. But then she said, “Yes, I think that’s it. Now scoot before you miss the bus.” 

Merlin turned, stunned. The woman who had given birth to him – and only him since both Morgana and Mordy were adopted - had forgotten his birthday. His _sixteenth_ birthday. The one that was only a big deal for girls, but still. 

Merlin spirits sank. Damn Morgana and her wedding for screwing up his life. 

**

“I’m sure they didn’t forget your birthday,” Gwen said, her face pinched in what Merlin thought was sympathy. “They probably just didn’t remember it right away.”

“Oh, there’s a difference?” His mock-innocent question was dripping with sarcasm.

Gwen rolled her eyes. “Look, I know it sucks that you turn sweet sixteen the day before Morgana’s wedding, but they’re sure to remember eventually. And then they’ll probably feel super guilty about forgetting and not wishing you a happy birthday and you’ll end up getting lots and lots of terrific make-up-for-it gifts. You’ll see.” 

Merlin gave her a dubious look. “Only girls turn _sweet_ sixteen,” he said, still grumpy.

“Really. And what do boys turn?” Gwen asked, looping her arm through Merlin’s, grinning good-naturedly.

“I don’t know,” Merlin replied, feeling the pull of his frown loosening. Gwen was always able to put him in a better mood. “Just not _sweet_.”

**

Merlin looked down at the paper he’d unfolded. The first question read: _Have you ever touched it?_ He considered for a moment. By “it”, did Elena mean a prick or a vagina? Of course, he’d touched his _own_ prick. Elena knew he was gay – or Merlin thought she did – so maybe for him she meant touching some other guy’s prick? He shrugged then wrote: _NO for the girl bits_ and _ALMOST for the boy bits_. He _had_ almost touched Will’s prick once. Not that he was willing to admit that out loud to anyone.

He continued taking Elena’s “Sex Test” (she had actually titled it that), glancing up periodically at Mr. Aredian who was sitting behind the desk at the front of the room, presiding officiously over Study Period. The rest of the students around Merlin were doing their own thing, some actually studying, but most just trying to pass the hour with minimal boredom.

Question 7: _Have you ever done it?_ Merlin assumed “it” in this question referred to “sex” but with Elena one never knew. So, he answered with a safe _I don’t think so._ Then Question 8, of course: _If you answered ‘I don’t think so’ for Q7, would you ever if you could?_

Merlin rolled his eyes. What kind of question was that? Of course, he would. What teenage boy wouldn’t? He didn’t want to seem sex-starved and desperate, though, so he wrote a more casual response: _I guess._

Question 9 was the follow up _With who?_ beside which Elena had written in brackets: _Be honest, your name’s not on this, so it’s okay._

Merlin chanced a peek over his shoulder at the blonde boy sitting one row over, two seats back: The boy of his fantasies - popular jock Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur had one elbow propped up on the desk, hand supporting his chin, his blue eyes vacant, as though his mind was on the soccer field beyond the classroom, and definitely not on his studies. To Merlin he looked, as he always did, positively gorgeous with those bright blue eyes, that golden skin, and the stylishly messed blonde hair.

He sighed. Then before he could be caught staring, Merlin quickly turned his attention back to the “test”. He wet his bottom lip with his tongue then bit down on it and wrote his answer for Question 9: _Arthur Pendragon._

Question 10 was another follow-up: _Does he know that you like him?_ Merlin immediately wrote _NO WAY!!_ , underlining the words several times for emphasis.

Test completed, he folded the paper into a little square by folding it in half four times. Then, faking a yawn and stretch, he dropped the paper square behind him, passing it off to Gwen. 

**

“You swear to gods you don’t have it?” Merlin asked Gwen on their way to the cafeteria for lunch, aware that his voice was a decibel just shy of frantic.

Gwen frayed her bottom lip with her teeth. “I don’t know anything about it,” she told him.

Merlin took several deep breaths, trying to stave off the rising panic. “Elena gave me a sex test during Child Development,” he explained, “and I was supposed to do it and pass it on to you during Study Period. I dropped it behind me onto your desk!” He knew he sounded a little accusatory but he was, quite understandably, a tad freaked out. His day was just getting better and better.

Gwen made a face. “It didn’t have your name on it, right?”

“No, “ he confirmed, “but it was really embarrassing, Gwen. You had to name who you would do it with if you ever did it.”

Gwen came to a halt in the hallway and gave Merlin a piercing look. “Who did you name?” 

Merlin blushed deeply, the kind of blush that didn’t even bother making a gradual appearance but just splashed boldly across his cheekbones. “Arthur Pendragon.”

“Oh, Merlin, you didn’t!” Gwen expressed. “Arthur Pendragon is a _senior_. He doesn’t even know you exist!”

“Yeah, thanks for that, Gwen,” Merlin grumbled. As if he needed to be reminded that he was but a peon in Arthur Pendragon’s golden world.

“I just mean he’s not exactly up for grabs,” Gwen tried to soothe. “He’s got a girlfriend, remember?”

“I know,” Merlin mumbled, his misery pulling him further and further downward. Yes, Arthur Pendragon had a _girlfriend_ – which meant he was straight, right? – the very beautiful, very popular, very _endowed_ Vivian King. The two looked like fucking royalty together – both blonde, golden, regal. It made Merlin want to hurl. “It’s just--” Gwen raised an eyebrow to prod him on. “It’s just that I feel like he’s my destiny or something, okay?” Merlin had the feeling it would now take all afternoon for his burning blush to go away. He glanced down at his feet. “Cripes, how lame is that?”

Gwen smiled and patted his blush-hot cheek. “It’s not lame at all,” she said kindly, which was why she was Merlin’s best friend in the whole wide world. “I’m just not sure Arthur Pendragon is _aware_ he’s supposed to be your destiny.”

Merlin couldn’t very well argue with that.

**

Arthur was in the gym with Perce doing pull-ups as part of their after-school training routine.

“Do you know Merlin Emrys?” Arthur asked his friend and soccer teammate as they alternated pull-ups.

“Skinny kid, always wearing a scarf?” Perce responded as he pulled himself up to the bar. “Sophomore, right?”

“Yeah,” said Arthur on his next pull-up. “What do you think of him?”

Perce gave Arthur a dubious look. “I don’t,” he said. “First off, he’s a _dude_. Second off, he’s a _sophomore_.”

Arthur nodded then huffed out a breath. “I think he wants to do it with me,” he told Perce.  
Perce cocked an eyebrow. “Do what?”

“ _It_ ,” Arthur emphasized, hoping the widening of his eyes and the gesture he was giving Perce conveyed his meaning.

“Oh. Why do you think that?” 

Arthur didn’t want to tell Perce about the “test” he had found on the floor while leaving Study Period. He wasn’t even sure if Merlin was the last one to have had it. It could have been the pretty cocoa-skinned girl with the curly hair. “I don’t know,” he said. “There’s just something about him. We have Study Period together and he’s always _looking_ at me.”

“Maybe he’s got a mental affliction,” Perce teased.

“I’m serious, Perce,” said Arthur. “He looks at me like he’s in love with me, you know?”

Though he wouldn’t admit it to Perce or anyone else, it made Arthur’s heart soar whenever Merlin looked at him like that, all besotted and moony. And whatever Perce thought (or didn’t think) about the boy, Merlin Emrys – yes, both a dude and a sophomore – was all kinds of cute, especially with those fantastic cheekbones, pink bow lips, and blue, blue eyes. If he _was_ in love with Arthur—

“Vivian’s in love with you,” Perce helpfully reminded, and visions of Arthur’s blonde, giggly girlfriend instantly came to mind. “And she’s a senior – like us – with a gigantic girl-rack.” He cupped his big hands in front of his chest and grinned.

Arthur delivered a whack to his friend’s bicep, which was decidedly a bad move, and chuckled. 

“Yeah.”

For some reason, the thought of Vivian didn’t evoke the same level of excitement as the thought of Merlin did. But Arthur didn’t share this with Perce. Instead, he went back to doing pull-ups, this time without talking. 

**

Merlin hated taking the bus home from school. In the morning, kids were usually still half-asleep so the ride was bearable – though Merlin still dreamed of having his own car that he could drive to school instead of having to take the bus. In the afternoon, however, the bus was a free-for-all zone, filled with kids hopped up on too much sugar and those who’d been waiting six hours to be clear of the humdrum of education. Filled with geeks and nerds who talked about obscure sci-fi films and corrected each other’s Klingon. And filled with fourteen and fifteen year olds who acted like wide-eyed kindergarteners on their first field trip. It was crazy pandemonium and it sucked. Big time.

He supposed it wasn’t all bad. Gwen usually caught a ride to school in the mornings with her dad as he drove to work, but she took the bus home in the afternoons, so at least Merlin wasn’t wallowing in bus hell alone. Gwen was, however, a much more cheerful rider than Merlin.

The seat in front of them that had been occupied by a pair of annoying freshers who had insisted on firing invisible lasers at each other finally cleared and Merlin felt a surge of relief. But his relief quickly dissipated when the seat was taken up by an odd-looking boy, a fresher named Gilli. 

Gilli rested his forearms on the seat back, facing them. He eyed Gwen, obviously giving appraisal. Merlin shoved his hands between his knees so he wouldn’t accidentally reach out and smack him.

“So, did it hurt?” asked Gilli.

Gwen giggled. “Did what hurt?” 

“When you fell from heaven.”

Gwen’s giggle became a full-out laugh. “Wow, that’s pretty cheesy,” she told him.

Gilli shrugged. Apparently, the cheesiness factor of his pick-up line was irrelevant. Unperturbed, he turned his attention to Merlin. “What about you, Blue Eyes? Did it hurt when _you_ fell from heaven?”

“No,” said Merlin dryly, “but I’m going to hurt _you_ in about five seconds if you don’t scram.”

Gilli’s eyes widened and he wisely scrambled away but not before tossing out a “love the scarf” comment to Merlin.

“Merlin, that wasn’t very nice,” Gwen chided but she giggled nonetheless.

“Cut me some slack, Gwen,” Merlin said, toying with the scarf he had around his neck. At least the fresher liked it. He continued miserably, “My family forgot my sixteenth birthday, I confessed on a _sex test_ that I want to do it with Arthur Pendragon, and I’m riding a bus with a bunch of five year olds. I think I’m entitled to be less than nice.”

Gwen patted his arm. “There, there.” 

Merlin would have been happy to detail how patronizing him wasn’t helping his mood any, but they were at Gwen’s stop. 

“Call me later,” she said as she got up from her seat. “I want to know what happens at home.”

“I can tell you now,” Merlin said, feeling surly. “Nothing.”

Gwen frowned. “Quit feeling sorry for yourself, ” she scolded. “Pouting will give you wrinkles.” She blew Merlin a kiss and exited the bus.

Merlin was having the worst day of his life and Gwen was worried about wrinkles?

**

Merlin stopped in the kitchen to grab a bag of cheesy crisps before heading upstairs to his bedroom. After the horrible day he was having, he just wanted to relax back on his bed and listen to some indie music. At the top of the landing, he heard playful banter coming from his room and remembered. 

Oh yeah, his godfathers.

He found them unpacking their belongings, neatly stowing away socks and underwear in a cleaned out drawer of Merlin’s dresser and hanging shirts and pants in a space created in Merlin’s closet.

“Did you remember to pack your silk tie, Geoffrey?” his Uncle Gaius asked his partner.

“Yes, Gaius, yes,” came his Uncle Geoffrey’s response.

“The colourful one?”

“Yes, yes, Gaius.”

Merlin popped his head around the doorway. “Hi!” he greeted.

“Merlin!” Gaius returned, his face lighting up with a grin.

Geoffrey turned from the closet and nodded his welcome.

His godfathers Gaius and Geoffrey were quite the pair. Merlin called them both “Uncle” but neither of them were related to him. His mother had met Gaius when she was younger and had spent some time at a healing commune. Never having had a father figure, Hunith Emrys had taken to the man, who had quite the talent as a non-traditional healer. The two became fast friends and had easily bonded like father-daughter. When Gaius bonded – in a much different way – with Geoffrey, the three basically became a family.

Both Gaius and Geoffrey had acted as midwives when Hunith had become pregnant with Merlin – his mother had never mentioned a father – and had safely delivered him in the tiny home his mother had lived in. Though Merlin was never baptized under any religion, Hunith had appointed Gaius and Geoffrey as Merlin’s “godfathers” – his guardians and protectors. Of course, when Morgana and Mordred had been adopted, Gaius and Geoffrey had welcomed them lovingly, but everyone knew Merlin was their favourite.

“So, ties?” Merlin teased the older men. He had never seen his uncles in anything except the ‘robes’ they usually wore – Geoffrey’s mainly blue or purple, Gaius’ mostly brown, white, or grey. To see them at Morgana’s wedding dressed in suits would be a real treat.

“I am afraid so,” Gaius said solemnly, holding back a grin. “Morgana strictly told us we had to wear suits with ties to her wedding or she’d turn us into toads.”

Geoffrey bobbed his head in confirmation and Merlin yelped out a laugh. Gaius laughed too then pulled Merlin into a hug.

“Ah, Merlin,” he said fondly. “It’s good to see you, my boy.”

Merlin decided to test them.

“So, do I look any _different_ to you?” he probed. “A little _older_ maybe?” 

Gaius cocked an eyebrow in assessment. “Well, you do look more grown-up than the last time we saw you – what, was that in the spring when we returned from Florida? Yes, definitely more grown-up.” He clapped his hands together and pressed them to his mouth. “Can you believe it, Geoffrey?” he said to his partner. “Our little Merlin’s all grown up.”

“Yes, yes, Gaius,” Geoffrey murmured in agreement. “He’s all grown up.”

Was that it? thought Merlin. He was all grown up? That’s all they had to say?

But apparently his Uncle Gaius wasn’t finished. The old man winked at him and said gleefully, his eyes twinkling, “Probably got some chest hairs now, eh? And a great big cock.”

Okay, Merlin thought. This just turned awkward. He gave his Uncle Gaius a weak smile, not sure what he should say. He ducked out of his room as Gaius and Geoffrey resumed their unpacking, making his way to Mordy’s room to seek refuge.

Feeling positively mortified now, he flopped down onto the bottom bunk, fully intending to stuff himself with crisps to ease the misery. 

_Some chest hair? A great big cock?_ Really? Merlin was certainly no slouch in the manhood department, but still. And he’d started growing chest hair four years ago. Seriously, he loved his Uncle Gaius to death but sometimes the man was a bit of a whack job.

“Got any dirty mags, mate?”

Merlin was so startled that he threw the bag of crisps at the face hanging over the top bunk from which the voice had come.

The face chuckled. “I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.”

A body swung down and landed on the floor next to the bottom bunk, feet crushing crisps that had scattered. “Hi, I’m Gwaine,” said the body, which was pretty damn attractive, Merlin appraised. “You must be Merlin.”

“Must be,” Merlin replied. The guy had an accent – Scottish, maybe, or Irish?

“I came with your godfathers, Gaius and Geoffrey,” Gwaine explained. “I’m an exchange student from Ireland.”

So Irish then. Wait, the guy was a _student_? Merlin took in the faded brown leather jacket and boots, the shiny glorious hair and the close-cropped beard. Gwaine easily looked twenty-five.

“I’m eighteen in case you’re wondering,” Gwaine said with a grin. Then he blew out a sigh. “I’ve had a look around your brother’s room and couldn’t find any porn stashed away anywhere. Kinda weird for a twelve-year old, in’it?”

Merlin gave a non-committal hum. Weird for him, maybe (though Gwaine might find a different kind of porn stashed away in his room) but not for Mordy, who was all about superheroes and video games.

Gwaine blew out a heavy sigh. “I need a wank - badly,” he announced. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any naked pictures of your sister handy?”

Merlin scrambled off the bunk and was out the room so fast that he didn’t even hear Gwaine’s throaty chuckle.

He met Mordy coming out of the hallway bathroom. 

“There’s a lecherous Irish dude in your bedroom,” he told the kid.

“You mean Gwaine? Yeah, he’s awesome.” Mordy grinned widely then frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “But he’s not a leprechaun. Uncle Gaius said he was an exchange student.” 

**

He decided to take refuge in Morgana’s room next. With any luck, his sister might even remember it was his birthday today.

Morgana was sitting in the chair at her vanity table, stroking a brush through her long raven hair. She cocked a perfectly manicured eyebrow at Merlin when he burst into her bedroom, dropping himself onto her bed with a heavy sigh.

“What’s up with you?” his sister asked, resuming the brush strokes that had momentarily stopped when Merlin had come into her room. 

Apparently, she wasn’t going to wish him a happy birthday. Merlin decided to get more philosophical. “How did you know you were in love with Leon?” he asked.

Morgana turned in her chair and studied him for a moment. Then she smiled and said, “I just _knew_.”

Merlin blew out another sigh. “Oh thanks, Morgana, that’s very helpful,” he said a little crossly. He couldn’t help it. He was miserable, remember?

Morgana gave him an indulgent look. “Okay, Merlin. Spill it,” she told him. Morgana had never been one to beat around the bush.

“I think I’m in love.”

Her sister’s eyes twinkled. “So what’s the problem?”

“Well, for starters, he doesn’t know I exist,” Merlin told her. 

Morgana chuckled. “That is a bit of a challenge.”

“Tell me about it,” Merlin grumbled. “And he’s a senior.”

“Suppose that’s another little hurdle,” his sister said. “The High School Hierarchy can be so unkind.” 

Not that it had been unkind to her, Merlin thought. Morgana had been wildly popular throughout high school, even when she was a freshman and sophomore. Everybody knew her and everybody liked her – the jocks, the preps, the drama kids, the gothers, the computer geeks, the sci-fi nerds, even the class clowns. He said none of this, though.

Morgana turned back toward the mirror and began brushing again. “So what is he like, this boy you’re in love with who doesn’t know you exist?”

Hmm, what was Arthur Pendragon like? “He’s perfect,” Merlin said, his heart and dick swelling just from visualizing the perfection that was Arthur Pendragon. Really, there was no other way to describe him. 

He heard his sister laugh. “I truly _love_ Leon,” Morgana said. “But I wouldn’t ever describe him as _perfect_. Everyone has their flaws, Merlin.”

“You don’t,” Merlin replied dryly. Morgana was the most beautiful woman Merlin knew, all pale ivory skin, luscious raven hair, and emerald green eyes. She was sometimes a little bossy but, for the most part, she was flawless. And Leon was her knight (Knight conveniently being his last name) in shining armour. If Merlin wasn’t so damn happy for them, he would dare deride them as pathetic.

Morgana laughed. “Okay, so I’m the exception,” she joked. “But as far as this boy is concerned, you need to find a way to make him _notice_ you.”

“How?” She made it sound so easy.

Morgana shrugged. “Dazzle him. That’s how I scooped Leon. I was just too irresistible for him not to fall madly in love with me.” 

Dazzle him? Merlin wasn’t sure he had the personality or skill to dazzle. He’d probably have better luck searching for some magical spell to cast on Arthur. It worked in all those Disney movies, didn’t it?

His sister put her brush down, glancing at the clock on the bedside table. “Ooh, got to get dressed,” she announced, making a dash for her closet.

That was definitely Merlin’s cue to leave.

**

He went down to the kitchen where he found his mother spreading the final layer of mozzarella cheese atop the lasagne the men were having for dinner while his mother and sister dined at a fancy restaurant with Leon and his parents.

Hunith Emrys smacked the top of Merlin’s hand when he reached in to filch some cheese.

“I’m putting this in the oven at 350 for one hour,” his mom said. “Remember to take it out, let it sit for ten minutes, and then set it on a hot pad on the dining room table. Everyone can self-serve from the pan. Just be careful not to burn yourselves.” She ripped off a sheet of tin foil to cover the pan.

Yep. Still no mention of his birthday.

His mother opened the oven door and whisked the lasagne inside. “Morgana and I probably won’t be getting home until after eleven,” she told Merlin. “I bet your godfathers would love it if you spent some time visiting with them tonight,” she encouraged. 

“Well, there’s kind of this dance at school I was thinking of going to...” Merlin said, giving his mother his practiced “from under his eyelashes” look that usually guaranteed he’d get his way. Merlin had told Gwen he would go to the dance even though he hated dances of any kind, but she had coaxed him into it by telling him she had heard that Arthur Pendragon was going – with Vivian, of course, but that was a minor detail Merlin chose to ignore.

“Oh,” Hunith said, and Merlin could already tell The Look was working. 

“Oh what subtle plea from under long lashes can do to charm the pants off even the most foul of dispositions.” 

Gwaine.

The Irish rogue flashed a smile at Merlin’s mother. “Not that thy fair and beautiful lady is foul of disposition,” he clarified, positively oozing charm.

To Merlin’s horror, a blush dusted his mother’s cheeks as she smiled back at Gwaine, and he watched her push a stray lock of hair behind her ear coyly. “You are too kind,” she replied demurely and Merlin felt bile rising in his throat. The exchange student from Ireland was flirting with his mom!

“I can go then?” Merlin asked abruptly, wanting to get away from this Flirt Fest as fast as he possibly could.

“Of course,” his mother told him, and quite dreamily too.

Merlin left his mother in the kitchen to moon over Gwaine and his charming smile and went to the living room to watch TV and sulk on the sofa until dinner was ready. 

**

Geoffrey offered a quick meal blessing – “Bless this food, this bounty of earth, we are grateful for these gifts of life” – and the five men dug into Hunith’s baked lasagne, scooping generous portions onto each of their plates.

In between mouthfuls, they engaged in mealtime small-talk. Gaius asked Merlin and Mordy how school was going; Merlin asked Gaius how his herbal medicine side business was faring and asked Geoffrey which rare books he had recently acquired. Gwaine asked Mordy about his “hobbies” (tossing a side wink Merlin’s way) and Mordy talked excitedly with his mouth full for ten minutes about the video games he was playing. At Gaius’ urging, Gwaine offered up tidbits about where in Ireland he was from and what kinds of things he liked to do – his “official” answer was playing footy (European slang for soccer) but Merlin suspected the truth was probably hitting on girls (and possibly the occasional guy too).

“Merlin says you’re a leprechaun,” Mordy told the table.

Gwaine, Gaius and Geoffrey each raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Merlin. 

“I said he was--” Merlin started, pushing down the blush that was creeping up. “--Just never mind,” he mumbled. It wasn’t Mordy’s fault he’d misunderstood _leprechaun_ for _lecherous_. The kid was twelve.

Gwaine eyed Merlin for a moment then grinned – _lecherously_ , Merlin would add.

It was a good thing Mordy’s attention span wasn’t very long. 

“So Gwaine, wanna play _Call of Duty_ after supper?” Mordy asked, his face eager as a puppy. “We could do co-op online with some of my friends.” 

Mordy’s hero-worshipping was both plain and obvious. And a little pathetic. So Gwaine had great hair and a beard. Merlin wasn’t so impressed.

Gwaine smiled at the kid. “I’ll have to take a raincheck, little man,” he said. He looked at Merlin. “I was hoping your brother would let me tag along to that school dance of his.” 

Merlin nearly choked on a noodle. 

“What a fantastic idea!” Gaius expressed. “Don’t you think, Geoffrey?”

“Yes, yes, Gaius,” Geoffrey agreed. “A fantastic idea.”

Merlin wondered why no one was asking him if it was a fantastic idea. Because it definitely was not fantastic. It was not even good. Or even semi-okay.

“Um, sure,” he heard himself saying and watched as Gwaine’s grin spread wider.

“You can take Betsy,” Gaius offered, referring to the old VW van he and Geoffrey drove. He looked to Gwaine. “Merlin doesn’t have his license yet. But I trust you’ll drive her safely.”

Merlin waited. One beat, two beats, three. Nothing. What kind of Twilight Zone was he in that the mention of a driver’s license didn’t even prompt the memory of his birthday? Geoffrey and Gaius were surely getting daft. 

After dinner, Merlin looped a different scarf (red) over a clean t-shirt (blue), mussed more gel through his hair, told Mordy not to stay up too late, and promised Gaius and Geoffrey he’d be home before sunrise (a joke)before following the Irish exchange student out to the orange and white van. 

With Gwaine’s stubborn persistence and Gaius’ loving encouragement, the old van coughed and hacked, fuming a bit before sputtering to life, and he and Gwaine were finally on their way to the school dance, his godfathers beaming and waving them off from the driveway. 

As soon as they rounded the corner, Gwaine gave him a lascivious grin and Merlin felt a nervous excitement grip him. 

One way or another, this was bound to be an interesting evening, he thought. 

**

Gwen came over as soon as Merlin and Gwaine entered the gym. Gwaine slapped Merlin on the back saying, “Catch you later, mate” and wandered off toward a group of giggling girls. 

Gwen raised an eyebrow. “The Irish exchange student that came with your godfathers?”

Merlin nodded. He had called Gwen before dinner to update her on his pathetic life and had mentioned the porn-seeking rogue his godfathers had brought along with them. “He invited himself to the dance,” he said. “Gaius and Geoffrey let him drive Betsy here.” His look turned sour. “Apparently mention of a driver’s license wasn’t enough to bring my birthday to mind, either.”

“Let it go,” Gwen said kindly, patting his arm.

“Easy for you to say,” Merlin bristled.

He and Gwen took up spots on the side of the gym opposite the bleachers, content to watch the crowd of school kids mostly socializing with only a few attempting to pair up and actually dance. As far as Merlin was concerned, the School Dance was mostly a social event designed to encourage and enforce the hierarchy Morgana had spoken of, leaving those at the top of the hierarchy feeling secure and smug in their placement and those at the bottom feeling dejected and miserable. This was why he almost never let Gwen drag him to dances. 

Gwaine, Merlin noticed, was flirting his way around the gym and charming every girl in his path. Among them, of course, was Elena whom Merlin could see was already smitten with the Irish rogue if her eyelash batting, hair flipping, giggling and blushing were any indication.  
He passed a glance over the couples on the dance floor – there were less than a dozen of them swaying to the music – his eyes falling onto Arthur Pendragon and Vivian King.

Merlin scowled as he watched them move to the music, Arthur holding his pretty girlfriend close, Vivian staring up at her gorgeous boyfriend, happy and besotted. They were Albion High’s Perfect Couple and Merlin hated them. Well, he hated Vivian King. He was in love with Arthur Pendragon. 

Merlin tempered his jealousy (which he knew was unreasonable because Arthur was Vivian’s, not his) by focusing on the beautiful blonde boy he had a crush on. He focused on the movement of Arthur’s body (which was perfect and fit), the way he smiled (his slightly crooked teeth so adorable), how pink and perfect his lips were, the way his hair curled just below his ears and was shiny and golden and stylishly mussed like it had been fluffed by kittens. Merlin was so focused on appreciating the beauty of Arthur Pendragon as he moved lithely and seductively on the dance floor that he barely acknowledged Gwen when she mumbled something about getting a drink, and left him gazing with complete and utter infatuation.

The sight-line to his Number One Wank Fantasy was suddenly blocked by a grinning mouthful of braces. 

Will.

Merlin huffed. He reached into his jeans pocket and discretely pulled out the lace panties he’d snitched from Morgana’s drawer earlier and pressed them into Will’s sweat-eager hand.

“Now go away,” Merlin told the boy.

Will laughed. “Ah, come on, Merlin,” he complained good-humouredly, shoving the panties into his front pants pocket. “I thought we were friends.”

Merlin let his eyes roll. He and Will had been friends throughout most of grade school, but then Merlin had grown out of his awkward, geeky stage when he had started high school, whereas Will had insisted on continuing to make a career out of it. “You’re blocking my view,” Merlin told him dryly.

Will tossed a look over his shoulder at the blonde high school god then returned his attention to Merlin and grinned – a white and shiny-silver explosion. “Got a hard on for Pendragon, huh? Yeah, like he’s attainable.”

“Whatever,” Merlin said, trying to sound as though he was unaffected by Will’s comment. He knew where he stood in the high school hierarchy and that he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell to capture the attention of someone like Arthur Pendragon but he could fantasize, couldn’t he? He nodded at Will’s pocket. “You got ‘em. So beat it.” 

That was, after all, the arrangement. Merlin handed a pair of Morgana’s panties off to Will every once in a while, and Will pursued his career as a computer geek and nerd who had no fashion sense without involving or pestering Merlin too much. Really, it was win-win. Besides, Morgana never seemed to miss the nicked panties. 

It looked like Will was contemplating hanging around some more just to be a right wanker, but then he grinned at Merlin, muttered “thanks” and shoved off. Merlin let out a sigh of relief then returned his attention to the dance floor and to Arthur Pendragon. 

**

Vivian was nattering on about which of her friends was wearing the cutest shoes and which one had the newest handbag and Arthur soon found his mind and attention wandering off, as it usually did when Viv nattered about such stuff. He tried to listen to be the sensitive boyfriend and all, but he really didn’t care that Sophia had changed tops five times before she finally decided on some gold Joie thingy that apparently showed off her boobs nicely.

Arthur mumbled appropriate responses as she talked, scanning the gym with his eyes over the top of her blonde head. His eyes came to rest on a lanky dark-haired boy in black jeans, blue t-shirt and red scarf and his interest piqued. 

Merlin Emrys was talking to another boy - a sophomore named Will, which he only knew because the boy had helped him recover a document on his laptop once when his History essay had somehow disappeared from the hard drive. Maybe Merlin and Will were friends. Arthur watched with interest as Merlin took something out of his jeans pocket and very discreetly handed it over to Will. From this distance and angle, Arthur couldn’t tell what it was but Will quickly shoved it into the front pocket of his own jeans. Curious, Arthur thought.

When he got a look on his next sway around with Vivian, Arthur saw the boy Will glance over his shoulder toward the dance floor – seeming almost to be looking right at _him_ , although there were at least two other couples dancing close to him and Vivian. 

“...even _listening_?” 

“Hmm?” Arthur said, focusing his attention back on Vivian who was looking up at him and scowling.

“I _said_ I think we should get out of here and go to your house,” she told him. 

“Yeah?” He was back to half-listening, returning his attention to the two sophomores. Will had gone off and Merlin had his back pressed against the gym wall now, his arms crossed, his gaze seeming to be focused on the dance floor, but it was difficult to tell where Merlin might have been looking. If the boy were to look at _him_ , Arthur was going to be sure to give him his best and most charming smile. 

The song had apparently ended and Vivian had stopped dancing, Arthur realizing this only when Vivian gave him a shove. 

“What is _wrong_ with you tonight? You’re not paying any attention to me!” she scolded, giving Arthur a furious look.

“Nothing,” Arthur said quickly. 

Vivian fixed him with an eye and a pout. “You’d better not be checking out Soph’s boobs.”

Arthur wanted to laugh but he managed to hold it in. “Of course not,” he said seriously.

“I’m getting Sophie and Mith and going to the bathroom,” she announced. “Get our coats,” she instructed then turned on her heel and stamped away, leaving Arthur standing there with his mouth hanging slightly open.

Viv was the only one who had brought a jacket and Arthur seriously contemplated telling her to go fetch her own but then he remembered he was actually a nice guy and went to retrieve his girlfriend’s coat.

**

When the dance ended and couples like Arthur and Vivian broke apart, Merlin decided to go into the hallway and get a drink from the fountain. He wasn’t thirsty but he was starting to feel like a knob leaning up against the wall all by himself. Maybe he’d find Gwen coming out of the bathroom.

He didn’t see Gwen in the hallway or near the girls’ bathroom so Merlin figured she must have gone back into the gym and was probably looking for him. So he got a drink at the fountain for good measure and then headed back to the gym, noticing Vivian King coming down the hallway toward the bathroom, looking like a regal queen flanked by two pretty princesses. 

“Watch it!” Vivian shrieked as Merlin passed by her and he wondered if he’d ever be able to hear the same again.

“I didn’t do anyth--” 

“This is a one-of-a-kind Vivienne Westwood blouse, you dork!” Vivian continued, outraged. “You think I want your greasy handprints and your, your...erm, dorky germs all over it?”

Yeah, the homecoming queen was a bright one who had a way with words. Merlin didn’t know what Arthur Pendragon saw in her. The draw was probably her cleavage, he thought bitterly.

“I didn’t touch you,” Merlin insisted.

“You did too!” Vivian returned and stomped her foot, suggesting the beginnings of a temper tantrum. Merlin grimaced. He really did not want to be subjected to that. “Just wait until my boyfriend hears about this!”

Merlin was about to toss back an indifferent “Who cares?” but then he remembered who Vivian King’s boyfriend was and quickly held his tongue. Instead, he rolled his eyes and beat a retreat back to the gym, ignoring the laughs from Vivian and her friends.

**

On his way to the bleachers to get Vivian’s coat, Arthur passed by Will, the kid who had been talking to Merlin. Without really giving it thought, Arthur grabbed the pimply-faced, tawny-haired boy with braces by the arm. Will immediately startled, looking at him with guarded alarm.

“You were talking to Merlin Emrys,” Arthur stated, relaxing his grip on the boy’s arm and hoping he wasn’t going to make a dart for it. 

“Yeah,” said the boy, now seeming more curious than wary. “So what?”

Arthur crossed his arms against his chest. “I saw him give you something. What was it?”

“None of your business,” Will said and Arthur cocked a stern eyebrow at him. He knew he could be intimidating when he tried to be. “Okay, fine,” Will capitulated. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of lace panties. Mauve lace panties. “These,” he said, looking around furtively while holding out the panties discreetly. “He gave me these.”

Arthur cocked another eyebrow, this one enquiring. What the hell? So was Emrys into wearing girls’ panties or something?

He hadn’t realized he had asked this question out loud until he saw Will’s brows crinkle then clear and he answered, “Um, yeah. Yeah. He likes to wear girls’ panties”, nodding his head vigorously.

Arthur eyed him suspiciously. Will re-pocketed the panties, brushed Arthur off with a shrug, and went on his merry way. Arthur was left standing there, his mind a whirl with a thousand questions, every one of them about a boy named Merlin Emrys.

**

Merlin looked for Gwen when he returned to the gym and saw her dancing with a cute boy from his English class whose name was Lance. He couldn’t drag her away now. He cast a glance around the gym and saw Gwaine in a corner engaged in an intense necking session with Elena and Merlin found his eyes rolling. Of course, the Irish exchange student who had arrived with his godfathers would hook up with a girl at Merlin’s school dance, while Merlin hadn’t been able to catch the attention of a single sole for the year and half he’d been in school. He looked around some more, his eyes alighting when he saw Arthur Pendragon standing near the bleachers where coats had been pitched, picking through the jackets.

Arthur was leaving and Merlin hadn’t even had the chance to dazzle him yet! 

His feet, seeming to have a mind of their own, carried him toward the bleachers, his mind a buzz with ways he could possibly dazzle someone as beautiful and perfect as Arthur Pendragon . What would he say?

Merlin ran some potential starter lines through his mind: _Hey, Arthur, how’s it hanging?_ Nah, too cheesy and could easily be misconstrued. _Love your shirt._ It _was_ a really nice shirt Arthur was wearing , a blue button-down that outlined his chest and made his blue eyes and blonde hair stand out but...yeah, stupid. _Got a cigarette?_ Lame. Besides, Merlin didn’t even smoke and he was pretty sure Arthur didn’t either. _This may sound incredibly dumb, but I love you and I’ll do anything to make you love me._ That _did_ sound incredibly dumb. So, no. _Arthur, you’re so not gonna believe this but I had this very bizarre dream and you were in it._ He wasn’t sure about bizarre, but the dream part was definitely true and Arthur didn’t have to know the exact content of the dream. Yep, definitely a winner.

Merlin took a deep breath as he approached Arthur, whose back was still turned as he collected the coats, and mustered up courage and confidence to deliver the line that would dazzle his crush. He saw Arthur start to turn his way. This was it.

And that was when Merlin did a complete one-eighty, beating a path away from Arthur Pendragon as quickly as his legs could carry him.

Vivian King was right. He was such a dork.

** 

Arthur turned, Vivian’s jacket in hand, the long, lean back of Merlin Emrys catching his gaze as the boy abruptly did a one-eighty and headed in the opposite direction. What the...? On their own volition, his eyes settled on the boy’s round and pert behind encased in deliciously tight black jeans and Arthur felt his cheeks flushing. Nice, he appraised. Then his mind wandered further, and he found himself thinking about mauve lace panties, like the kind that kid Will had shown him, and Arthur suddenly wondered if there was a similar pair of lace panties hidden beneath those tight black denim-- 

“Arthur!” 

Vivian’s shrill voice yanked him out of his not-so-pure thoughts about Merlin Emrys. He focused on his girlfriend, trying hard not to blush.

Vivian narrowed her eyes at him, grabbing her jacket from his arm roughly. “Let’s go,” she told him.

What else could Arthur do but follow obediently?

**

They were in the van on their way to drop Elena and Gwen off at their houses.

“Heard a bloke called Arthur is having a party,” Gwaine said. “Wanna crash it?”

Elena giggled from the passenger’s seat. “Yeah, let’s crash Arthur Pendragon’s party!” She turned in her seat and gave Merlin and Gwen an excited look.

Crash a party at Arthur Pendragon’s house? Oh yeah, Merlin was so in. “Yeah, sure, okay,” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant even though he knew Gwen was looking at him with that knowing Gwen look and frowning.

“I can’t,” she said and Merlin gave her a pleading look. When would he ever have this kind of chance again? “Merlin, you know my dad will freak if I’m not home by midnight.” She fixed Merlin with a look that was both apologetic and scolding. “Your mom will freak out too.”

Merlin shrugged off Gwen’s concern. “I’m with Gwaine,” he said, pretending that Gwen didn’t know Gwaine had popped into their lives only earlier today. “He charmed the panties off my mom already so she isn’t going to freak.”

Gwaine grinned, wide as a Cheshire cat, at the mention of Merlin’s mother’s panties and Merlin did his best to counter the nauseous shiver that ran through him. 

Despite Gwen’s mother-hen reluctance, it was agreed that they would drop her off at her house and then Gwaine, Elena, and Merlin would go on to ‘crash’ the party. 

“Anyone know where this bloke lives?” Gwaine asked once Gwen was safely tucked away in her house.

Merlin rattled off the address. He saw Gwaine quirk an eyebrow at him in the rear view mirror. “Stalk much, mate?”

Elena giggled. Merlin scowled. He wasn’t stalking. _Everyone_ in Albion knew where the Pendragons lived.

He glowered back at Gwaine. “Just turn right at the next corner and drive,” he told him moodily.

Gwaine guffawed and Elena giggled. Merlin decided he hated them both.

**

Arthur found Vivian in his kitchen, tipping back a tequila shot – and not the first from the looks of it. 

“Baby, do a shot with us,” Vivian cooed at him and her girlfriends giggled.

Arthur grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the somewhat less-crowded hallway.

“You said you invited just a few friends,” he stated, irritated.

“Oh pooh!” Vivian replied, giggling, already well on her way to being drunk. “What’s a few extra people?”

Arthur rolled his eyes at her. “A few extra _dozen_ ,” he said. “They’re trashing my house.”

His father wouldn’t be returning until next weekend but Arthur shuddered to think of all the damage being wrought tonight by the scores of kids uninvited into his house. He wanted to wring Viv’s pretty little neck. 

“Only a little mess,” Vivian said, resolving into a fit of giggles. She patted Arthur’s cheek and clucked, “Your father has a maid service.” 

Arthur left her standing in the hallway, slumped up against the wall, her giggling fit reaching the level of uncontrollable. He poked his head into the kitchen and told Sophia and Mithian to “take care of Vivian” and then resigned to stroll through his house to assess the mounting damage.

**

Arthur Pendragon basically lived in a mansion – fifteen thousand square feet of luxurious living space with six bedrooms and seven baths, high definition flat-screen TVs in every one of its twenty-one rooms, which included a library, a pool, and a billiards room, with an attached five-car garage that housed a Rolls, a Jaguar, a Mercedes, a Ferrari, and a Porsche. Or so Merlin had heard.

It turned out there was no need to ‘crash’ the party. They were let in easily by a couple of jovial jocks whom Merlin recognized as seniors on the school wrestling team. 

Inside, the rooms were crammed with people, which was saying a lot because it was a _very big_ house. Merlin estimated there had to be about one hundred and fifty to two hundred kids milling about, most with beer cans in their hands, a few puffing on cigarettes or weed. Somehow Merlin did not think this was a parentally-approved party but apparently Arthur’s dad was away a lot so he supposed this must have been one of those times Uther Pendragon was away.

Gwaine whistled his appreciation of the digs, draped an arm over Elena’s shoulder, then gave Merlin a two-finger salute. He pushed their way through the throng, Merlin watching as Gwaine grabbed two cans of beer from someone holding out a six-pack. 

Great. Gwaine and Elena had abandoned him. Figures. Merlin shoved his hands in his jeans pockets and looked around, wondering what he was supposed to do now. He caught glimpses of familiar faces here and there in the crowd – kids from school – but they belonged to no one he knew well – certainly not well enough to go up to and strike up a random conversation. He finally decided to work his way through the crowd, hoping he might run into the party host. Morgana had said to “dazzle” Arthur and since Merlin hadn’t done a very good job of dazzling at the dance, he figured he might as well give it a second go here, although in this crowd it seemed next to improbable that he’d catch even a half-second glimpse of the blonde hottie.

He persevered on nonetheless, weaving his way through the crowd of people, declining the cans of beer offered to him every few steps. He saw a golden head of hair pop up in the crowd every now and then, but when he was able to see whom it belonged to, it was never Arthur Pendragon.

An hour and change later, Merlin finally gave up searching. It was a stupid idea to have come here. It was even stupider to think he’d run into Arthur Pendragon and be able to dazzle him - make Arthur fall deeply and madly in love with him as if they were stars in some stupid rom-com.

“Stupid, stupid,” Merlin muttered, turning abruptly to make his way back out of the house. As his (bad) luck would have it, he crashed into a body with a hard chest, and when he looked up, Merlin found himself staring into beautiful blues – blue eyes belonging to the boy of his fantasies.

“Hi,” Arthur whispered, though it was probably only Merlin’s imagination. Because one: how could he hear a whisper in this noise even if Arthur’s face was close enough Merlin could feel his breath on his cheeks and he could smell his intoxicating sweet-spicy cologne. And two: why would Arthur Pendragon – wildly popular and a senior – say anything, much less “hi” or “hello” to him, Merlin – a socially awkward and geeky in his own way even if he did have a fabulous sense of fashion sophomore?

In any event, Merlin was sure he had forgotten how to breathe but he managed to suck in a gulp of air so he could whisper back, “he-hell _ooooomph_!”

That was when he was suddenly blind-sided by two members of the football team who were playing catch in the middle of the family room, knocking him into a couple holding red solo cups of beer, which splashed all over his front as he crashed to the floor.

Merlin assessed his situation. He was on the floor in Arthur Pendragon’s house, covered in beer. It was the stuff of nightmares and Merlin had never felt more humiliated in his life. 

The couple whose beer he was wearing tried to help him up, but Merlin shoved their hands away and got to his feet on his own. Then he quickly pushed through the crowd, needing to escape, his cheekbones burning with embarrassment. He focused on getting out as quickly as possible, but especially before the tears started falling.

He was so focused on putting as much distance between himself and the scene of mortification that he didn’t even hear Arthur Pendragon calling after him.

**

“Merlin!” Arthur called but the boy was rushing like he’d been caught on fire and didn’t seem to hear him.

So Arthur pushed his way through the crowd to try and catch him. But when he was finally able to burst outside, there was no sign of Merlin anywhere.

“Fuck,” Arthur cursed. The couple necking on his front porch gave him an offended look.

Arthur ran a hand through his hair. He finally gets handed a chance to talk to the boy who’s been messing up his head lately and those football lunk-heads had to go and plough him down. He ran a hand through his hair once more and turned to go back inside. What the hell was his life lately?

His return inside was met with a loud crash of glass breaking and falling. His father’s trophy display case. Guilty silence followed.

Arthur had had enough. “Party’s over,” he announced.

**

Merlin wished he had worn a hoodie. The night air was chilly, especially now with his t-shirt and scarf soaked through with beer. He started walking, already dialling Gwen on his cell phone.

But Gwen didn’t pick up and Merlin figured she’d probably left her cell phone in her purse somewhere in her house and wasn’t able to hear it. She was probably sleeping anyway.

Merlin flicked a hot tear away with his fingers and continued walking briskly. He had two-point-two miles to cover to his house and it was fucking chilly.

**

It took almost two hours to clear his house of the party-goers and even then there were stragglers that Arthur had to shoo away with threats of calling the police. Vivian had passed out in one of the guest bedrooms – thank God she hadn’t passed out in Arthur’s room – and Arthur had let her be for fear that he actually would wring her neck.

He collapsed on the sprawling sectional in one of the living rooms, grimacing when he saw several burn holes in the supple white leather. There were beer cans and liquor bottles everywhere, cigarette and weed ash all over the carpets; furniture had been knocked over, his father’s display case had been smashed, and there were chairs and lamps floating in the indoor pool. His father was going to kill him and would probably send him to military school. 

Arthur picked through the cups and beer cans littering the previously pristine glass coffee table. He shook one of the cans and it appeared to be half full so he lifted it up to take a swig out of it, deciding to drown his misery.

An eye blinked at him from under the glass in the spot where the can had been removed. 

What the fuck?

Arthur swiped an arm over the top of the glass table to clear all the trash and litter away. He found the sophomore boy Will underneath the coffee table, his eyes wide and blinking.

Could this night really get any fucking weirder? Arthur thought.

**

Will cleared a spot on the marble kitchen counter and hopped up onto it, a can of Pepsi in his hand. Arthur nursed his own can, leaning forward onto the counter and regarding Will curiously. 

“So. Arthur...” Will said then asked, “Can I call you Art or Arty?”

“No.”

“Okay then.” Will took a swig from his can and looked around at the mess in the kitchen. “So what’s the deal? You have these wild parties a lot?”

Arthur shook his head. “I don’t have parties. My _girlfriend_ invited some friends over after the dance and apparently the whole school caught wind of the invite and decided to crash. The house is a disaster and my father is going to kill me.”

Will’s eyes widened and he looked excited. “Your girlfriend is Vivian King.”

Arthur took a sip of his own Pepsi and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

“So?” Will said, looking aghast. “Vivian King is beautiful and rich and popular and she has huge, perky ti--” 

Arthur levelled him with a glance and Will wisely stopped talking.

“Yeah, Vivian is rich and beautiful and popular and has big tits. So what?”

Will looked incredulous. “So what? Are you kidding me? Every guy dreams of having a girl like that. And she’s yours, Arthur. All yours.”

Arthur knew Will was right. Vivian was the kind of girl every guy wanted. Still, Arthur wasn’t sure she was the kind of girl _he_ wanted. “I’m not sure I’m interested anymore,” he found himself telling Will. “Sure, Viv is beautiful but all she cares about is partying and having fun. She’s totally insensitive.” Arthur gestured a hand about. “Look what she did to my house.” 

Will nodded and Arthur started to believe the kid understood what he was talking about. He could never talk to Perce or Elyan or any of those guys about things like this. About _feelings_. So, he decided to keep going. 

“You know, sometimes I wonder what it would be like to find someone – a girl or boy--” Arthur flicked a glance at Will to gauge his reaction but Will seemed okay with it either way, “--who will fall in love with me for just _me_ and not because I’m Arthur Pendragon – a guy who’s kind of rich, not bad looking, and a pretty good soccer player.”

Will tossed him a look. “Your family’s _very_ rich, you’re _very_ good-looking, and you’re an _ace_ soccer player,” he expressed with obvious admiration. “And, let’s not forget you’re very _popular_.” 

“Yeah,” Arthur conceded. “But I don’t really care about being popular. I just want to be me.” 

Will looked surprised at that but he said nothing. Arthur figured it was probably hard for a guy like Will to understand. When you didn’t have popularity, it made sense that you’d probably crave it. By the same token, just because you had it didn’t mean you wanted it.

“Can I ask you something?” he said suddenly.

“Sure, shoot,” said Will.

“How come Merlin Emrys gave you a pair of girls’ panties?”

Will laughed outright. “How did we go from Vivian King to Merlin Emrys?”

“Just answer the question,” Arthur said.

“Okay,” Will agreed. “He gave me the panties because, despite his ridiculous fashion sense – I mean, who wears a scarf with a t-shirt? - Merlin is a good guy and would give a nerd like me, who used to be his friend, a pair of his sister’s panties just so I can pretend to brag to all my other nerdy friends that I’ve done it with a girl.”

Arthur raised his eyebrows. “Have you?”

“Have I what?”

“Done it with a girl.”

Will laughed then blushed. “You kidding? What girl would do it with me?”

Arthur decided he very much liked this Will kid. “So does Merlin have like a girlfriend or a boyfriend?” he asked, biting down on his lip. 

Will’s eyebrows shot up. “You saying you’re interested?”

Arthur felt the blush creep over his cheekbones. “Maybe.”

“Got good news for you then,” Will said with a grin. “Merlin’s got a big hard on for you.”

“Get out,” said Arthur. Was Merlin really interested in him or was Will just pulling his leg?

Will held up his hands, palms out. “Swear to God.”

Arthur felt his heart swelling and, for the first time this whole shitty night, he couldn’t keep the grin from taking over his face. 

“But just so you know,” Will said, suddenly very serious. “You fuck with Merlin’s feelings and I’ll fuck with your face. Got it?”

Arthur was impressed. He didn’t think for a minute that Will would ever be able to take him, but the mere fact that he would threaten Arthur on Merlin’s behalf (Merlin was obviously still counted as his friend, no matter what Will had said) made Arthur believe the kid was good-hearted and noble. And _that_ he admired. 

“Got it,” he said.

**

His mother was in the living room waiting for him when Merlin finally got home.

“Oh, Merlin!” she expressed, rushing to give him a hug. She made a face and drew back when she smelled the beer steeped through his scarf and t-shirt and pointedly raised her eyebrow.

“I didn’t drink any,” Merlin quickly told her.

Hunith Emrys regarded her son with fondness then frowned. “I’m so _sorry_ , Merlin,” she said, breathing out a sigh. “I forgot your birthday.”

“It’s okay,” Merlin said, finally at the point where he could shrug it off. The forgotten birthday suddenly didn’t seem to matter so much anymore. “You’ve been really busy with Morgana’s wedding and stuff...” 

His mother’s frown deepened and Merlin saw tears pool in her eyes. “This wedding has just taken up so much of my attention lately,” she said. “With all the planning and helping Morgana, everything’s just been so crazy. Still,” she added, clearly miserable with herself, “What kind of mother forgets her son’s birthday?”

“Come on, you’re an awesome mom,” Merlin told her, giving his mom a peck on her cheek. “So awesome that you’re gonna buy me a convertible as a make-up-for-it gift for forgetting, right?” he teased, a smidgen of hope mixed in.

Hunith laughed. “If only I could,” she returned and smiled. “Now go upstairs and get changed and I’ll make up the bed on the sofa for you.”

His mother was fluffing up a pillow for him when Merlin came back downstairs in sleep pants and a t-shirt. He sprawled out on the made-up sofa and was surprised when, instead of heading upstairs to bed, his mother sat down on the arm of the sofa.

“So tell me about this boy you have a crush on,” Hunith said.

“Morgana?”

His mother nodded. Merlin sighed. 

“His name is Arthur,” he told her. “He’s a senior. And he’s beautiful and perfect and I’m kind of in love with him.” Merlin ran a hand through his hair as he blushed, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “He’s got this incredible girlfriend and I’m just some ridiculous, pathetic dork who he doesn’t even know exists.”

His mother moved from her seat and wrapped her arms around him. “You’re not a dork, Merlin,” she said. “I’m sure Arthur doesn’t think so, either.”

His mother hadn’t seen him sprawled out like a dork on Arthur’s living room floor, Merlin thought, but he chose to simply bask in the warmth of his mother’s hug, saying nothing.

Hunith Emrys kissed her son’s forehead. “You know what I always say, Merlin. If it’s right and it’s meant to be, it will happen.”

“Yeah, I know,” Merlin said. His mother was a firm believer in things like fate and destiny. Merlin just wished he could believe in it too. “It just hurts.”

His mother gave him another squeeze and peck on the forehead. Then she stood up, stifling a yawn with her hand, and wished him a goodnight. She paused at the foot of the staircase.

“By the way, what happened to Gwaine?”

Merlin shrugged. “Lost track of him. That’s why I walked home.”

Hunith frowned then said, “Well, I hope he makes it back safely.” She started up the stairs, trailing with a final thought: “I shudder to think what Gaius and Geoffrey might do if anything should happen to Betsy.”

**

Arthur buckled Vivian into the passenger seat of his father’s Jaguar convertible. Will was in the driver’s seat, already safely buckled in, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“This is a fucking Jag, Arthur,” Will said.

Arthur hummed back confirmation. He had somehow convinced himself and Will that it would be a good idea for Will to take Vivian home (Viv was still passed out cold and wouldn’t know the difference if it was Will instead of Arthur who took her home anyway) in one of his father’s cars. The silver Jaguar convertible was the easiest to drive, so Arthur had encouraged Will to settle into the driver’s seat while he carried out Vivian and buckled her into the passenger seat.

“So probably best not to crash it,” Arthur added with a wink.

“Yeah, that’s good fucking advice,” Will snarled back. “And just so you know? I don’t have a license.”

“Better not get stopped by the police then either.”

Will rolled his eyes and started the engine. Arthur hit the fourth garage door open. Will put the car in gear and launched the Jaguar backward, then slammed on the brakes. Arthur grimaced. He motioned for Will to move forward slowly. 

Arthur watched as the Jaguar’s taillights disappeared beyond the driveway and wondered again how stupid it was to let a sophomore he barely knew, who didn’t have a driver’s license, drive home his drunk and passed out girlfriend in his father’s ninety-thousand dollar Jaguar XK convertible.

**

Arthur finally called it a night – it was after four in the morning – and headed upstairs to his bedroom. He got undressed in the dark, too tired to bother flicking on a light. 

He sunk into the brilliant softness of his bed and closed his eyes, certain he’d fall asleep within a second. He stopped breathing, though, when a body rolled over beside him and an arm was flung on top of him, a hand groping his package.

“Mmm, ‘Lena...” a voice with an accent mumbled.

Arthur pushed the hand away gruffly, shot up, and then punched the face belonging to the hand. Then he dragged the body - which might have been that Irish dude who had shown up at the party, come to think of it - out of his room and down the stairs, then unceremoniously shoved it out his front door.

He returned to bed.

Fuck.

**

It was half past eight when Merlin woke up, sniffling, probably the result of having gotten chilled from walking home at night in his beer-soaked scarf and t-shirt. He got up from the sofa and crossed over to the kitchen, stepping over Gwaine who was passed out in the kitchen doorway. 

He opened the fridge, pulled out the carton of juice, and popped open the tab. He wandered over to the window above the kitchen sink, chugging back a healthy dose of juice from the carton, and glanced out at the driveway. Betsy was there, seemingly safe and sound, her orange and white paint job looking brighter than ever. Maybe Gwaine wasn’t such a dolt after all.

Merlin returned the carton of juice to the refrigerator and then found the bag used for ice packs in the drawer by the stove and filled it with ice from the freezer. He nudged Gwaine with his big toe. Nothing. He nudged again. This time, it elicited a groan. 

“Better get yourself up off the floor before the Double Gs come down,” Merlin advised. 

Then he dropped the ice pack unceremoniously onto the body lump of the exchange student and hurried upstairs to get showered.

**

At precisely one o’clock, they were all dressed and downstairs in the living room, ignoring the grumbles and groans coming from Gwaine on the sofa, ready to make their way to the church for Morgana’s two o’clock wedding. 

Morgana looked positively stunning in her wedding gown, which was silk and sleeveless and gorgeous. Merlin beamed at her, marvelling how his sister was the most beautiful woman in the world. His mother looked fetching in the emerald green mother-of-the-bride dress Morgana had chosen for her and his godfathers looked rather stately in their suits and ties. He and Mordy looked pretty fine in their tuxes too, though Merlin wished he could have convinced Morgana to let him trade the black bow tie for one of his scarves.

All in all, the Emrys family cleaned up pretty good.

Gwaine waved them off from the sofa, the ice pack pressed to his forehead, as they followed each other out into the afternoon sunshine. 

Merlin helped Morgana get into the back seat of his mother’s car, which Geoffrey was driving, to ensure her dress didn’t get caught in the door. She kissed Merlin’s cheek as she ducked inside and whispered, “I’m such a terrible sister for forgetting but happy birthday, Merlin.”

Merlin smiled at her then closed the door. He made his way to Betsy, which Gaius was driving, claiming shotgun before Mordy could argue his case about feeling sick when he rode in the back seat. 

And then they were off - his family offering their loving support of Morgana, who was making a headfirst leap and becoming Leon’s life partner. It really was a beautiful day, Merlin thought, suddenly feeling sappy. 

**

Arthur followed the directions mapped out on his GPS app. After he had woken up, had cleaned some of the mess in the house (and called his father’s maid service), had rung Will to make sure he had gotten Vivian home safely (and made arrangements for someone to pick up his father’s jag), had rung and left a message for Vivian that they needed to talk, and had _showered_ , Arthur had had time to think heavily on what he should do about the boy he absolutely did not have a crush on – Merlin Emrys. In the end, he decided that maybe the direct approach was the best approach. 

So he used an app to find the address of the Emrys house – there was only one Emrys family in Albion – and then used another app to map the route to Merlin’s house, which was exactly two-point-two miles from his own. Then he jumped into his gold Hummer H4 and went in search of his apparent destiny.

He rang the doorbell at 42 Charming Drive and waited, shoving nervous hands into his jeans pockets then pulling them out again. Nobody came. He raked a hand through his hair and pressed the button again, resisting the urge to have a peek through the narrow window flanking one side of the front door.

After two more persistent rings of the doorbell, the front door was yanked opened. Arthur was startled to find not Merlin but the rogue with the shiny hair and beard and accent from earlier that morning who had-- 

“Who _are_ you?” he asked brusquely.

“I’m Gwaine,” said the shiny-haired rogue with the accent. Definitely Irish, Arthur thought. He looked at Arthur, his eyes zeroing in on the stuff below his belt. “Yeah, um, sorry about that,” he said, flicking a hand toward Arthur’s crotch. “I thought you were the girl I had hooked up with.”

Arthur snorted. “Yeah, because _obviously_ I’m easily mistaken for a _girl_ ,” he returned sourly.

Gwaine grinned. “You said it, mate, not me.”

Arthur ignored him. “Where’s Merlin?”

“Merlin?”

“Yes, _Merlin_. This is his house, right?”

Gwaine nodded. “At the church,” he answered.

Church? “What church?”

“The church where the wedding’s at,” was Gwaine’s response.

“What wedding?” Was it just Arthur, or was this conversation suddenly morphing into an Abbott and Costello routine?

“His _sister’s_ wedding,” Gwaine said, now clearly becoming annoyed. That made two of them.

“Oh. His sister’s getting married?” Arthur hadn’t really meant that as a question.

Gwaine shifted the ice pack he was holding to his forehead and rolled his eyes. “Gee, for a bloke with a crush,” he said, “you really don’t know anything about him, do you?”

Arthur shoved Gwaine back with a tap of his hand and pulled the front door closed. He did not have a crush. His fingers began tapping his iPhone, searching the local announcements. Okay, maybe he did have a crush. He scrolled through. It was just a teeny tiny crush. He stopped scrolling when he found what he was looking for. Fine, it was a big, gigantic crush. Arthur had a big, gigantic crush on Merlin Emrys. There. Was everyone happy now?

He climbed into his H4 and drove in the direction of St. Gregory’s church.

**

The ceremony went without a hitch – well, except for that trip Mordy took down the aisle that almost knocked over a candelabra and set the church on fire, which Merlin _and_ Morgana absolutely did not laugh at while their mother gave them an admonishing look. 

Merlin performed his role as maid-of-honour quite well even if most of Leon’s family and guests seemed flummoxed that Morgana’s _brothers_ were her _bridesmaids_ and that was after getting over the shock of her flamboyantly gay pseudo-uncles walking the bride down the aisle. It was Leon who had insisted that they get married in a church, after all.

But Morgana was happy and that was all that mattered today. 

His mother looped her arm through his as they watched Leon and Morgana get into the vintage Rolls-Royce they had rented to take them to the park for photos before the reception. Morgana blew a kiss at them before joining her new husband in the back seat and Merlin caught his mother’s eyes tearing. His own heart was melting at seeing his sister so in love and so happy and he couldn’t help wishing that someday he’d have a love as amazing as that too.

Guests were getting into cars of their own, leaving to go to the reception. Gaius and Geoffrey were waiting to take Hunith, Merlin, and Mordy to the hall just as soon as they were ready. He felt his mother nudging him in the side and she was nodding at something. Merlin followed the path of her gaze and, as the final guests cleared away, he saw him, coming tentatively up the steps toward them. 

“Hi,” said Arthur Pendragon, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets, looking shy and adorable.

“Hi,” Merlin returned. He didn’t even notice when his mother smiled at him and then discreetly moved off, leaving the two of them alone on the steps. “Hi,” he said again then silently cursed himself. He’d already said that. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I heard you were here,” Arthur answered.

“Yeah?” 

Arthur smiled and Merlin felt his knees weaken. “Yeah.”

Merlin cast his eyes down shyly before looking back up from under his lashes, fully expecting it to be dream and finding Arthur Pendragon, the boy of his fantasies, to not really be there. But he was there. _Here._ And he was real. 

Arthur looked at him hopefully. “So, want to ditch the reception and come back to my house?” he asked, biting down on his lip as if he was preparing himself for rejection. It was the most romantic thing Merlin had ever had happen to him. 

“Yeah,” he said, feeling dazed, unable to look away from Arthur’s blue eyes. 

“Should you maybe tell your mom or something?” Arthur said, blushing and grinning. 

Merlin shook his head. “Yeah.” He was startled by his mobile vibrating in his suit pocket. He reached for it and glanced at the text from his mother: _Go with the cute boy. Morgana will understand._ He chuckled and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “I guess it’s fine,” he told Arthur.

Arthur grinned then held out his hand for Merlin. Merlin took it and was led to the opposite side of the street where a gold Hummer was parked at the curb. 

As he climbed up into the passenger seat of the H4, with Arthur climbing into the driver’s seat, still grinning at him, Merlin thought: Maybe his mother was right about fate and destiny and all that other stuff after all. 

**

They were sitting cross-legged on Arthur’s dining room table, a frosted cake between them.

“So you really don’t wear girls’ underwear, right?” Arthur teased, producing the pair of mauve lace panties Merlin had snitched for Will. 

“No,” Merlin said, rolling his eyes and taking the mauve panties from Arthur. He didn’t even want to know how the panties had fallen into Arthur’s possession. Well, at least not right at the moment. Besides, Merlin had a feeling he would have a lot more opportunities to find out. 

“Too bad,” Arthur purred coyly. “I think it would be kind of hot if you did.”

Merlin blushed and covered his face with his hands. He heard the flick of a lighter and then Arthur was pulling his hands away and Merlin saw that he had lit the candle poking out of the centre of the cake. 

“Happy birthday, Merlin,” Arthur said. “Now make a wish.”

Merlin smiled then leaned over the cake to press his lips against Arthur’s. It was tingly and soft and utterly perfect. “It already came true,” he whispered against Arthur’s lips and then Merlin returned to kissing Arthur fully. 

They kept kissing, with Merlin forgetting all about the birthday cake, the lit candle, and the birthday wish until he felt his shirttails catching fire. He pulled back then, albeit reluctantly, pinched the candle out with his finger and thumb, and patted the shirt fire out with his hand, aware that Arthur was grinning at him, looking as stupidly moony and besotted as he was.

It was the best _sweet_ sixteen he could have ever hoped for.

**


End file.
